


Kinktober 2017

by Parad0xImminent



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Asphyxiation, BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Biting, Blood Kink, Blowjobs, Dom Sans, Dry Humping, Edgeplay, Fellswap Papyrus - Freeform, Feral Behavior, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gags, Grinding, Hypnotism, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Impregnation, Light BDSM, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Master/Pet, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Painplay, Praise Kink, Pregnancy, Restraints, Riding Crops, Sirens, Sub Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Vanilla, beastiality, fellswap sans - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-07 18:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12238332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parad0xImminent/pseuds/Parad0xImminent
Summary: Aaaalright, it's October! And so it's time to get spoopy, skeleton-style.Note: Last year's 30 prompts are SFW, so if seeing explicit content makes you uncomfortable, please navigate to that set of 30 instead! Stay safe, my friends!Note 2: I was struck by a bout of depression in October, so I couldn't finish. I'll set the new deadline for no later than New Year's Eve and see how it goes.





	1. Werewolves & Vampires (Underfell Sans/Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolves and Vampires are said to never be able to get along. Perhaps Red should have killed Edge the night he'd met him. But...why would he do that, when it all felt so good?  
> Kinks: Blood Kink, Dominance/Feral Kink, Biting/Scratching Kink, Asphyxiation Kink  
> Warnings: Hinted at Dub-Con.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, chapter two. Right on schedule.
> 
> Today hasn't been a very good day, so hopefully having written this will allow me to calm down a bit.

"You know, even if you had taken the chance and tried to kill me all that time ago, it wouldn't have worked," Edge suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence that had spread out between them. They had been sitting together on the couch in silence, watching shitty Halloween movies and poking fun at the crappy interpretations of Vampires and Werewolves. Red loved Twilight (the wolves looked fucking amazing, and plus he was a helpless romantic), while Edge hated it (sparkles? Really?). Most Halloween or Supernatural movies like this were absolutely ridiculous, though.

"Yeah, but you know how it is." Red replied, looking over at the taller Monster. Edge wasn't looking back at him, but rather at the screen, though it seemed he wasn't actually paying attention to it anymore. He was a vampire; tall, dark, and handsome. It was taboo for them to even be within a five mile radius without trying to kill each other; and yet here they were, hanging out and watching shitty Halloween movies.

_  
Red scoffed as he skidded back, flicking blood off of his pointed phalanges. His ear was torn, oozing down a familiar wetness that served as a minor discomfort. There was another gash over his left eye, serving as much more irritating as he knew his skull was cracked, and he couldn't see out of that eye anymore, his vision the color of his namesake. He glared at the Monster several yards away from him, bony lips curling in a snarl. His golden tooth glinted in the moonlight, canines becoming sharper and more menacing. The teeth in the opposite Monster's mouth did the same, though they became slimmer._

_He spat at the dirt below him, barking a laugh. He raised his blood-coated hand, the blood dark and completely sapped of Oxygen. Vampires didn't have to breathe, after all._

_"Is that all you've got?"  
_

"I do," Edge replied, nodding and blinking before slowly turning to face Red. "Though it makes me wonder sometimes...if you couldn't kill me, why didn't I kill you?" Red sat back at this, thinking. It wasn't the first time they had talked about this among one another, and yet they contemplated it all the same, never quite making a conclusion.

_  
"You've grown lazy," Red growled as he and Edge circled each other, his hackles raised. He had shifted into his Blaster form, ecto body coating his bones and protecting them from some of the super natural blows Vampires could inflict. "Because you're nearly immortal, you haven't been practicing. And that's what will kill you tonight."_

_Edge scoffed at this, his back still infuriatingly straight and expression calm as ever. He had spent this entire interaction only poking fun at Red, pissing him off. He wondered what the prick was going to say this time._

_"You talk big about how strong you are, and yet you have yet to do as you say you will. I am still alive, and you suffer the most wounds. I dare say that you are the most pathetic werewolf I have ever encountered. Do you have **any** redeeming qualities?"_

_Red launched himself at the other again, but Edge just stood there, allowing himself to be knocked back and pinned. "You shut the fuck up!" He snarled, teeth in Edge's face, and yet the Vampire still didn't flinch. "I'm a kick-ass fighter, and I don' need no pack to be strong, or a Vampire insulting my strength."_

_"Then if you're so proud and strong by yourself, puppy, prove it." Edge growled, his voice taking on a more seductive lilt, "dominate me. Prove to me that you are half as good at fucking as you are fighting." And he had more been trying to throw the werewolf off kilter than actually be serious, but it seemed Red hadn't caught the memo, as at first his eyes widened, then narrowed with determination. Soon after there was the sound of ripping fabric, and Edge realized that Red was tearing through his (expensive, mind you) suit._

_"Hey, wait--"_

_"Shut the fuck up," Red snarled again, intently focused on the task before him.  
_

"It's because I was such a good fuck, you didn't want to waste it." Red chuckled, grinning at Edge. This caused the taller Monster to snort, rolling his eye lights.

"You wish," he replied, finally looking over at Red now, whom was now sitting up on his knees. He looked ready to pounce.

"I could repeat that night for you, if you'd like," he practically purred, causing Edge to shudder and instinctively start to submit. He fought it valiantly, though.

_  
"Fuck!" Edge moaned as the other thrust into him at a rabid pace. He had never been taken in such a savage manner before, and he had to admit, _he loved it._ Tears sprung to his eyes as he dug his sharpened phalanges deeper into the other Monster's shoulder blades. He felt teeth dig into his cervical vertebrae, and a spike of fear rushed up his spine, though the danger only heightened his pleasure as his nearly black blood stained the ground below the two of them. He was cut up all over, and though he knew it would sting like a bitch later, right now it held Edge in a state of euphoria._

_And then suddenly an urge overcame him, and Edge flipped over the two of them, dislodging Red's teeth from his neck, which left a gash. But such a wound wouldn't be lethal to him, and as it was he was barely aware of it as he begun rapidly thrusting down onto the other's length, hand wrapping around Red's throat and pressing down. The werewolf wheezed, hands flying up to clutch at Edge's wrist as he almost deliriously thrust up into the other. Just as he was about to pass out Edge let go, causing the smaller Monster to cough and wheeze, choking on a moan as he came deep inside him._

_He was about to get off of Red, when the smaller Monster jumped up, shifting back into his humanoid forme and grabbing him before taking a shortcut. The inertia left him dizzy and even more tired than before. "Couldn't have you going home naked," Red had said as he curled up in Edge's lap. "Can't imagine a pretentious, arrogant bastard like you being forced to walk nude in public. But don't think anything of this, or I'll fucking kill you a second time." Despite his words, Red was bizarrely complacent as he dozed off just like that, on some level trusting Edge not to kill him as he slept._

_Who was he to betray that?  
_

"Nah, I'm not really feeling up to it." Edge shrugged, and Red took that as an opportunity to heel, flopping over on the couch. Edge leaned forward and grabbed the remote, turning off the television and standing up. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to cuddle." Red got a pleased look on his face at this, looking happy as a puppy handed a bunch of treats. Edge scooped him up, cradling him as he walked up the stairs to their now shared bedroom.

"Those days are over. Now, I just want to treat you right."


	2. Werewolves & Vampires (Underfell Sans/Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blueberry worries that he may be getting too old to trick-or-treat. Stretch is left to assure him that he's never too old, while also showing him the benefits of adulthood.  
> Kinks: No kinks...just vanilla.

"I don't know...I think I'm just getting too old for Halloween, Papy."

Stretch stopped at this, looking over at his brother, whom was looking down at the ghost costume he had in his hands, sagging limply without a body to give it form. He seemed sad. That simply wouldn't do. He walked over to his brother, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And why do you think that, bro?" He asked. "Your costume looks great. You put so much effort into it."

"I just..." Blue huffed, his cheekbones (somehow) puffing up, expression contemplative. "I don't know, Papy. I haven't worn stripes in a long time, and I only see children trick-or-treating. Maybe I should just hang up the sheet, so to speak." Stretch hardly resisted a snort at this, trying to be serious. This was obviously a rather crucial moment.

"You still look young to some," he pointed out, humming. "And there is a bunch of candy, but not a lot of children. And I'm sure if nothing else, your super-cool costumes are inspirational to the children of the Underground." He picked up the sheet costume again, holding it out to Blue, whom took it with a contemplative look. "I think you should keep going, bro. You're a natural at everything you do, especially being unique. And if it doesn't work out, we can just come back home and eat all the candy we bought for the other kids, a'ight?" He winked, while Blue huffed at this, but then allowed himself to smile as he looked back towards the costume he had made.

"Alright, Papy. Thank you." He then let out an enthusiastic 'mweh heh heh', tackling his brother in a hug. Stretch 'nyeh heh heh'd right back, swinging his brother around a few times before putting him back on the ground. Then, the two of them got ready to go trick-or-treating.

Stretch had actually stopped walking up to doorsteps with his brother years ago. Perhaps that was one of the main reasons many Monsters thought he was the older brother. But in fact it was quite the opposite. He just felt like his brother should be able to do whatever made him happy, within reason. And what was so wrong about letting an adult indulge in their childish side? Just give them the damn candy.

And so they went out, Blue in his ghost costume and Papyrus in his skeleton onsie. Blue had huffed at his laziness, but his eyes became stars as the Underground gradually dimmed, and other children and parents started coming out. Blue would giggle and strike poses, earning himself an extra piece of candy here and there. Within the hour, his basket was already full. Stretch knew he would be rationing it for a pretty long time, or else Blue would end up splurging and bouncing off the walls for the next few days. The two of them headed back home, munching on a few favorites they dug out of the batch on the way.

"This was a really good year, Papy!" Blue chirped, waving his ghosty arms excitedly. Stretch chuckled.

"Yeah, boo-tiful night. I'm sure Happstablook would be proud." He hummed, causing Blue to bounce excitedly before he caught the pun, and sighed over-exaggeratedly. "Papyrus! That's a terrible joke!" They stepped inside, Stretch shutting the door and setting Blue's candy aside before pinning the smaller to the door.

"Mweh? Papy, what is it?" Blue asked, blinking up at the other. He then caught the orange flash in his taller brother's eye socket, and let out a soft 'oh' of realization.

"As nice as it is to be able to trick-or-treat and be young for awhile," Stretch murmured, leaning in to press their foreheads together, "I like being able to do adult things with you as well, Blueberry." This caused both of them to blush their respective shades of magic.

"O-oh," Blue said again, hands rising to smooth shyly over Stretch's sternum. They had done this multiple times, but every time felt like the first time with how gentle Stretch could be. Sometime, he would have to ask for his brother to be rough. But tonight he was tired, and wouldn't mind a bit of laziness sneaking into their routine. His starred eyelights grew hazy, sockets becoming lidded as his hands continued smoothing up, until they wrapped around Stretch's shoulders, bringing their faces closer together.

"I'd like to do adult things with you as well, Papy."

And then Stretch was on him, hands on either side of Blue's head as he pressed their teeth together in a gentle, passionate kiss. Suddenly they weren't against the wall anymore, but in Stretch's bedroom. The skeleton in question had Blue pinned to the bed, only sitting back so that the two of them could strip. It was when he caught sight of Stretch's coalescing magic that he then got an idea, sitting up on his knees before pressing his palms to his brother's shoulders, gently pushing him back.

"Blue--"

"Shh, Papy," he whispered, straddling the other's chest as he leaned down, beginning to press kisses and the occasional lick to the other's clavicles, cervical vertebrae, and sternum, causing the younger brother to moan, partially in confusion but mostly in pleasure. "You are such a good top, but...I want to change things up tonight."

And with that being said, Stretch submitted completely beneath Blue, eyes falling shut and breathy moans passing through his teeth. Blue tentatively reached down to begin prodding at his brother's magic, it shifting before forming an entrance. He prodded the other's clit for several moments before dipping a naked finger inside him, causing Stretch to gently arch his back, mouth opening in a beautiful 'o' shape that Blue decided he liked. He gently thrust in and out for a few moments before adding a second finger, beginning to stretch (hah) his brother open. This persisted for a couple of minutes, before...

"Blue, please," he moaned, and he nodded, withdrawing his fingers before shifting so that he was pressed against the other. Stretch nearly wept as Blue pushed into him, slowly thrusting in to the hilt before pausing. Stretch had wrapped his arms around Blue, dragging the smaller into his chest as he cried out, his grip nearly suffocating before Blue patted him, causing him to loosen his grip.

Blue wasn't even that impressive, at least in his opinion; he was pretty sure he was just a little less than average. But he knew that if Stretch had been taken in this way before, it wasn't by him. So it was like their first time all over again. He waited for the cue before beginning to slowly thrust, dragging in and out of the other at a loving pace. All the while, he planted chaste kisses all over Stretch's face, though the tall skeleton had to lift his head for Blue to be able to reach him.

"B-bro, please...faster," Stretch whined, and Blue obliged him, though he didn't speed up much. He wanted to keep this affectionate, like Stretch always insisted on being to him. He was taking that gentleness and paying it forward. Though someday he really did want something a bit rougher. He pinched his eyes shut, cheeks flushed a deep blue as he arched his hips, beginning to thrust harder, but somehow still maintaining that careful gentleness. He could feel his end approaching, and judging from how Stretch was beginning to clench around him, he was no different. Blue picked up the pace just a bit more, wanting to bring the both of them over that edge together.

"Blue...B-Blue, I'm..." Stretch cut off with a keening moan, back arching and arms tightening around Blue as he came, the smaller skeleton whimpering as he followed suit, releasing deep inside the other. They remained rigid for several moments before falling into the covers, panting. Stretch ended up eventually rolling the both of them over, curling around his brother, whom still had yet to pull out. They were both too lost in the afterglow to care right now.

"Papy..." Blue breathed, nuzzling into the other's sternum.

"Hm?" Stretch replied, trying to open his eyes, but failing as his lids only twitched.

"Thank you for letting me take control this time...we should...experiment more often..."

Stretch was going to say something in response, but his brother had already fallen asleep. He chuckled, curling more protectively around his older brother.

"Of course, Blue. Anything for you."


	3. Mettaton's Halloween Party (Undertale Sans/Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus goes to a Halloween party hosted by Mettaton, and ends up getting completely hammered. Fortunately he has a super cool older brother to swoop in and help him home.  
> Kinks: Multiple orgasms, first time (Papyrus)  
> Warnings: Alcohol usage, peer pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote the majority of this chapter while in driving class catching up on a missed lesson (I already had been through that particular lesson before for reasons, so I didn't need to pay rapt attention), so it was certainly fun transcribing the entire damned thing.
> 
> Enjoy, you fucking sinners.

"Welcome, darlings, to my very first annual Halloween party!"

Papyrus cheered along with the other Monsters around him as the festivities began. He'd dressed up in a cheesy Count Dracula costume for the simple fact he found the cape super cool. It was noisy and buzzing with activity, and almost everything was covered in glitter. Not a surprise in the slightest, considering who the host was. Papyrus wished he could throw parties as cool as this one.

He bumped shoulders with another Monster, turning to apologize when he realized that it was in fact Mettaton himself he had bumped into. Before he could even get an apology out, the robot was shoving a pink and fizzy drink in his hands.

"Oh, you simply must loosen up a bit, darling! Have a sip of this and feel your stressors melt away with ease!"

Papyrus stared at the drink warily--he was no fool, and could take a guess what the beverage contained. Sans came home dazed from the effects on a semi-regular basis.

"Ah, Mettaton, I--"

But there was, in an instant, a metallic finger on his teeth, surprisingly warm and faintly vibrating. "Just give it a try, darling. I just know you'll enjoy it."

Then the robot sauntered away, hips swaying. Papyrus looked down once again at his drink, contemplating it. Sans had his own stash, thinking Papyrus didn't know about it, but Papyrus actually took stock of it on a somewhat regular basis. He wondered what Sans could have to be sad about when they now lived on the Surface. Did alcohol really make him feel that good? Papyrus quickly found himself contempating the drink, and actually drinking it.

"Oh, Stars...I might as well. I'm at a party and I really should loosen up." Papyrus sighed to himself, before downing the drink. He coughed, the burn taking him off guard, but then he realized it actually tasted very good. The burn lit his bones aflame, tingling pleasantly. A minute later he was flagging down another glass, or at least seeking out another refill.

He quickly lost track of how many drinks he'd had. Everything past the fourth was a blur, Monsters bumping into him (or was he bumping into them? Were they even Monsters?). He even faintly recalled bumping into a chair at one point and apologizing to it before a blurry blob of white, blue and black appeared before him. In an instant his world became nothing more than a vast dark expanse, twisted and distorted before color returned, and he doubled over in what he could only assume was grass, throwing up.

A small bony hand patted his shoulder. He hadn't thrown up magic since he was a babybones...it was simply awful. He faintly noted that he was being lifted, though he felt no hands. It was like the air itself was carrying him, his world dyed a light shade of blue. He concluded that the blob was Sans, and that the blue light was gravity magic. He hadn't known Sans was so magically inclined...wait, Sans?!

Oh Stars, that meant he knew.

He whined and curled up in the magic surrounding him. The aura was gentle--Sans wasn't angry, at least. But still, this was utterly humiliating. He was lowered onto something soft; most likely the couch.

"Just take it easy, bro," he heard his brother murmur before his world went dark.

\--

When Papyrus stirred, he was almost immediately bombarded by a killer headache. His skull throbbed and felt almost as if it was going to snap in half. He sobbed in agony and rolled over, daring to open his eyes just a crack, only to be met by a glass of water and an open bottle that contained the Monster equivalent of Ibuprofen.

He jumped at them, quickly downing three pills and drinking all the water. His mouth tasted utterly foul, and he was glad to be rid of the rank taste. He tapped his phalanges against his glass as he sat there a minute, evaluating his situation. The night before was a blur, as he could barely remember it.

"Stars...what happened?"

"You got drunk," came Sans' voice, causing Papyrus to jump, dropping the glass he'd been cradling in his hands. It rolled along the carpeted floor, coming to a stop at his brother's feet.

"SANS!" Papyrus shouted, tone scolding, before grimacing as the volume agitated his migraine. He lowered his voice. "Sans, I...I'm so sorry," he said instead, keening softly as tears beaded at the corners of his eye sockets. Guilt quickly begun overwhelming him.

"For what, Paps?" Sans asked, seeming more concerned than upset. Maybe even a bit surprised. Perhaps it was at the quieter tone he had taken? Still, Papyrus didn't know if his older brother's response was a good thing or not.

"For drinking, of course! I know I'm not supposed to, and I must have been anything but dignified last night..." He would have continued, but stopped when he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder blade.

"Hey Paps, it's...it's okay. I mean, I would have preferred it hadn't happened where it did, 'cause someone could have taken advantage of you, but I mean...you're an adult, so I can't really be upset with you, y'know?" This caused Papyrus to tear up again, but he nodded none-the-less. He thought he could see disappointment in his brother's eyes, though--even though he had never seen Sans disappointed in him in his entire life. Had he simply imagined it?

"Look, Paps. I don't mind ya drinking. But if ya do, please do it here, yeah? Where someone can supervise ya. I want to make sure you're safe." Papyrus nodded, twiddling his phalanges. He felt like a scolded child, even though no scolding had occurred. Not from Sans, but rather within his own head.

Sans, sensing his brother's unease, sat next to Papyrus before leaning into his side. The taller brother almost immediately relaxed, as if out of instinct. He closed his eyes, relaxing as his headache finally begun fading to nothing more than a dull throb.

"Sans, you know, I've been thinking..." Papyrus sighed, resuming anxiously twiddling his thumbs. His anxiety spiked as he considered just laughing the thought off and not saying anything. But he never thought twice about what he said, right? He was the Great Papyrus after all, and he couldn't be wrong! But...he couldn't pretend that this particular subject material was like anything he had spoken to Sans on before. He needed to take this more carefully. Still, maybe the only reason he was even considering bringing it up was because he wasn't thinking properly. He had always in the past shoved this particular thing into the dark recesses of his skull.

He begun fiddling with his Dracula cape, now. It was wrinkled from him having slept in it. He would need to iron it out later.

"What is it, Paps?" This was it. No going back now. Sans turned to face his brother more directly. When had he sat down on the couch?

"I..." Papyrus faltered, choking on his words. He turned a deep shade of orange. "I love you, brother." He finally admitted, nearly weeping now in his anxiety. He dared make eye-contact with his brother, tensing once he realized the other's eyelights had gone out.

"I...I love you too, Papyrus," Sans replied, slowly. "You're the best brother ever." Papyrus shook his head rather fervently at this. He had already come this far; might as well see it through, right?

"No, no! Sans, I...I _love_ you. As more than a brother." Papyrus practically shouted, tears finally streaking down his face. It was deathly silent for far too long, and Papyrus begun considering just leaving the room altogether when suddenly he had a lap full of stocky skeleton, and there were teeth pressing against his own. He could do little more than sit there in shock at the sudden movement, eyes wide.

Sans eventually pulled away, blushing and panting softly. "I love you too, Papyrus," he said, though this time it was with an entirely different tone. Papyrus stared at Sans long and hard, until the short skeleton begun sweating, doubting his own confession even though Papyrus had been the one to confess first. Then teeth knocked somewhat uncomfortably against his, eliminating all of his worries in an instant. They both reciprocated each other this time, relief flooding both skeletons along with the euphoria that came with the unlikely success of one brother loving the other, and having it reciprocated vice versa.

Papyrus wrapped his arms around Sans' torso, dragging the older skeleton into his sternum as he deepened the kiss, inexperienced but making up for it in eagerness and passion. He grabbed the collar of Sans' shirt, moaning softly into the blue skeleton's mouth. This caused quite a shock, Sans backing off with wide eyes and taking in Papyrus' expression. Papyrus' eyelights were dilated. Upon closer inspection, Sans would realize his brother's breathing was heightened, coming in quick, excited puffs.

"Erm...Paps?"

He was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders, left eye flashing as he was pinned do the couch's cushions. His brother was looming rather imposingly over him. His own breathing had escalated in a mix of fear and excitement, as Papyrus seemed to now be almost entirely driven by instinct.

"Sans, I..." Papyrus cut himself off with a whimper, shifting above his brother. He was clearly nervous. Sans reached up, putting a hand on his brother's cheekbone. He hoped that the gesture was reassuring.

"Shh, it's okay bro. Just do what feels right, okay?" He soothed, Papyrus nodding and smiling at him. He leaned down, planting tender kisses along Sans' jaw, cervical vertebrae, and clavicles. This caused Sans to squirm and gasp in muted pleasure, afraid to make noise louder than the squeak of a mouse. Years of silently masturbating to the thought of your brother the next room other would cause such behavior, after all. He had spent many lonely nights imagining scenarios very similar to this one, except now it was real.

Sans was rather abruptly pulled from his thoughts when he felt a sudden pressure against his pelvis, repetitive and firm. He gasped and arched into the touch as he realized his brother was rather eagerly grinding against him. The sensation was foreign but incredible, and Sans found himself eagerly meeting his brother halfway.

Before long at all, Papyrus had sat up from where he had been straddling his brother, the two of them coming to a silent mutual agreement as they begun stripping themselves of their clothes. They disrobed quickly, and in a moment Papyrus was on Sans again, even more eagerly so than before now that they were bare-boned, nothing hid from the other brother. Sans summoned his magic, it coalescing into a slick blue entrance. Papyrus' magic formed a large and swollen orange length in response, leaning down and with little to no hesitation pressing his tongue into the smaller.

"A-ah!" Sans moaned, legs tensing and rising into the air before clamping down around Papyrus' skull. He seemed completely unperturbed by this, beginning to thrust his tongue in and out of the older brother. Sans bucked almost desperately into the sensations, mindless with love and lust. But soon, he realized it was no longer enough. "P-Papyrus, please...please fuck me."

Papyrus looked up from between Sans' legs at the plea, withdrawing his tongue and straightening up. His nasal aperture wrinkled at the coarse language, but he could get on Sans' case for it later. It just sounded immensely attractive right now. Maybe he would let the mistake slip entirely this time around. He looked down at his length, grabbing it before tentatively pressing it to Sans' entrance. He looked up to make sure he was doing it right, Sans eagerly nodding in response.

Papyrus then, without a second thought, shoved himself in to the hilt. Sans bent in a perfect arch, no longer mute as he wailed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the living room. Hopefully nobody could hear them from outside! The thought of concern was fleeting as Papyrus shifted his weight, grabbing Sans' hips before starting a moderate pace. Not rough, nor gentle, but nothing short of mind-blowing none-the-less.

Their moans filled the room for several minutes, Sans occasionally pleading in broken English for Papyrus to pick up the pace, and yet somehow the dominant younger brother always understood what he wanted. Almost as if they were connected in more ways than just the obvious; years of living together finally rearing it's benefits as they joined in the most affectionate way they knew. And they wouldn't have had it any other way.

"P-Papyrus, I-I'm coming--" Sans finally choked out, before clamping down on his brother and releasing around his length with a broken wail. He had never before had such mind-blowing sex, and, well...Papyrus had just never had sex. But that didn't mean he was done. As soon as Sans stopped clenching he resumed his brutal pace, orange sweat pearling on his skull, expression set in determination. His teeth were grit. It was attractive, but Sans made a sleepy, incredulous noise as the other's stamina. Sure he was a fit Monster, but that shouldn't carry over into his sex life, right?

Wrong.

Papyrus ended up dragging Sans through two more painful orgasms before he finally slammed into him, letting out a guttural groan as he came deep inside his brother. He sat rigid for several moments before becoming boneless (heh) and dropping down on top of Sans, not even caring to withdraw as he panted hard enough to make someone think he had ran the length of the Underground four times over.

"That was..." Papyrus panted brokenly between breaths, and Sans finished for him.

"...Amazing. It was amazing." Papyrus could only nod.

"I suppose a nap is in order...I can afford to let you be lazy for just a while, after that." Papyrus then said, as if he needed some sort of excuse to justify his exhaustion. Sans let out a breathy laugh, curling around the lanky skeleton and closing his eyes.

"Sure thing, bro. Thanks."


	4. How to Halloween: for Dummies (Fellswap Sans/Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Razz and Slim have their first Halloween, and it's on the Surface. Thing is, neither of them actually know how it works. Things could be worse, though.  
> Kinks: Master/Pet Play, BDSM, Pain Play, Edging  
> Warnings: None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today has been so long and stressful. I haven't had a single moment of free time to myself between high school, driving school (in the actual car), and driving class. Ten straight hours of learning, then rushing to complete my Underswap Sans cosplay for Fannexus in Spokane this weekend, as well as keeping up with the daily Kinktober update. My eyes feel like they're burning out of my skull, but I'm determined, even though I'm spreading myself really, really thin.
> 
> Anyways, my life doesn't matter. Y'all are here for a reason, and that's for the sin.
> 
> aLSO JEEZ ALMOST 3,000 WORDS WHAT
> 
> Fun fact: I actually spend most of my planning time for each chapter trying to figure out how to make it kinky. I'm a sucker for slow burns and having all of these scenarios with little build-up is definitely a challenge.  
> And so, enjoy. =w=

Razz was just about ready to blow a fuse. This was absolutely ridiculous!

He fumed as he stormed up to the next house. Why were they doing this, anyways? Halloween was a holiday for Humans to commemorate locking Monsterkind in the Underground, even though not many knew it. This wasn't a holiday Monsters should technically participate in, even though the actual objective of the holiday had changed over the millennia they had been trapped.

At least half of the house's Humans had thrown candy at Razz's face before slamming the door shut. He'd tried really hard to be as scary as possible--that was the point, right? Look as scary as possible, and you got candy for your efforts. But last he checked, the candy was supposed to be put in the bag he was holding, not lodged halfway into his eyesockets.

Maybe he was just too good for this holiday?

"Mutt!" Razz finally shouted, stamping his foot. Slim was at his side in less than a moment. "You try trick-or-treating. The Humans are being rude, and I want to know why!" Slim nodded before going up to the next door, carrying his empty basket. He had been mostly hanging around for this excursion, aware of any potential threats. It was mandatory for Monsters to be alert around Humans, after all. You could never know what they were thinking, even on a children's holiday. Razz watched intently as his brother, dressed up as a dog (rather appropriately so, if Razz did say so himself), rang the doorbell. A moment passed and the door opened. He could just barely hear his brother murmuring something before the Human _laughed,_ dropping a large handful of candy into his basket. They conversed for a few moments before Slim came back to Razz tapping his foot impatiently, looking rather relaxed.

"Mutt! What happened?" Razz demanded.

"I told them a joke, m'lord," Slim replied, calmly.

"But you're supposed to be terrifying! Not make them laugh!" Razz fumed, cheeks puffing up in his confusion and frustration.

"If I may say quite the contrary, m'lord. That is not entirely true." Slim replied, and Razz opened his mouth, but much to his chagrin, his brother put up his hand. Such insolence! But still, Razz allowed him to speak. "Halloween, at least these days, is more about cute children and unruly teenagers in costumes getting candy than scaring the people giving it." He explained. "At least, that's what the Human at the door said when I asked. Apparently it's more frequently seen for the people giving out the candy to scare the trick-or-treaters than vice versa, and you're widely considered by adults to be an asshole if you prank their home."

So he had been informed incorrectly, then. How had that happened? He was never wrong! None-the-less, he supposed he would ave to admit defeat this time.

"Well fine, then. I will try it your way."

Razz had previously approached homes surrounded in a malevolent blue aura, eyelights bright and shadows contouring the majority of his face. He looked like Hell itself had arisen and possessed him, and he himself got a thrill out of the terror on the faces of the Humans, but not so much when being assaulted by sugary food.

But when he approached this house, he tried a different approach. The one the stranger Human and his brother had suggested. He enlarged his eyelights, turning the skulls of his pupils to stars, and overall softened his expression. With his height, it wasn't hard to pretend he was nine or ten years old. And the feedback as a result was much, much different.

The Humans at both that house and the several houses proceeding it all coo'ed and aww'ed, giving him handfuls of candy. They called him cute, and though he was mildly indignant, Razz couldn't help but blush. Each time he'd come back down the driveway, flushed a bright shade of blue, his brother snickering at him. This would earn Slim a glare, but no protest.

"You know, m'lord," Slim spoke up after maybe an hour of successful candy hoarding. He seemed tired, sockets more lidded than usual, and posture slouching. Razz was beginning to feel rather weary, himself.

"Yes? What is it?" Razz paused on the sidewalk, turning to face his taller brother.

"As cute as it is watching you turn bright blue each time you come back to me, I thought only I was allowed to see you blush, and it would be as I pleasure you."

Razz lit up an even darker shade of blue at this seductive remark, sputtering. "P-Papyrus!" There it was. His name, music to Slim's non-existent ears. "You will be silent! You know that I decide what it is you do and do not encounter in regards to our relationship. You do not have any possession over me! And I do not blush." The last bit was said as a grumpy murmur, almost like a child muttering disagreement under their breath. Slim rolled his eyes, but nodded, complacent. Razz could fume and argue all he wanted, but he knew just as well as Slim did that they both belonged to each other equally.

"Whatever you say, m'lord. I apologize for my insolence."

Razz searched Slim's expression for a moment before nodding, then turning around and heading back in the direction of home. Slim, behind him, smirked in silent victory as he followed faithfully behind. But he would soon realize that it wasn't a complete win, as Razz walked as slowly as he could possibly muster. It ended up taking over twenty minutes for them to get home. By that point Slim was mildly annoyed, and more tired than ever. He had caught on to what Razz was doing rather quickly, and why he hadn't requested that they shortcut instead; the asshole was trying to punish him for speaking out of line. He had kept him waiting intentionally.

But Slim wouldn't wait anymore.

As soon as the door was closed, Slim was on Razz. He pinned his smaller brother to the front door, barely thinking to double check the porch lights were off. Didn't want visitors ringing and ruining the mood.

"Heel."

The voice was calm and even, unwavering. But Slim knew better than to question a direct order. In less than a second flat he was off of Razz, kneeling on the floor with his head bowed submissively. There was the shuffling of fabric, and the dull thump of shoes being taken off and placed by the door.

"Take all of the candy and sort the fruity kind from the chocolate. When you're done, disrobe and meet me in my bedroom for your punishment. You have been very naughty this evening."

Slim grumbled at this but nodded, watching as his brother walked up the stairs and disappeared into his room. Slim took the bags of candy they had gathered and sat down at the dining room table, dumping out each of the contents and beginning to sort the candy as instructed. It took him a little less than ten minutes, as there _was_ a lot of candy, and he didn't recognize many of the brands. Why did Humans need so many different kinds of candy? Monsters just had one kind, and it definitely made things more simple.

He stood up, then stripped out of his dog onsie costume before shortcutting up the stairs. He knocked on his brother's door, hearing a muffled 'come in'. And what he saw almost made it worth it.

Razz was sprawled out on his bed, completely naked. The delicious sight had Slim drooling as the smaller brother rested a crop against his femur, ropes looped around the headboard and waiting to be used. He just barely resisted the urge to run over.

"Now, mutt. Before we begin, tell me what you've done wrong." It was the same words again. Slim had heard the exact ones so many times, he could recite them before they were even said aloud, word-for-word. And like clockwork, he said the same words he usually said.

"I've spoken out of turn and attempted to come onto you without permission, m'lord." He said, a note of apology in his tone, but just underneath it was a smug superiority. Razz caught onto this, and narrowed his eyes before straightening up on the bed.

"Come here. Now."

Slim nearly scrambled to obey, falling to his knees at the bedside and bowing his head, not unlike earlier at the front door when he'd been ordered to kneel.

"On the bed. Lay on your back."

Slim did as said, climbing into the bed and only laying back once Razz had gotten out of the way, raising his arms to the rope lodged between the bars of the headboard, already knowing what was going to happen.

Razz reached up and secured the rope between his ulna and radius bones, making sure they were restrictive but not too tight before sitting back, climbing over Slim and straddling his pelvis. Slim let out a guttural moan, already very needy.

"Do you remember the safeword?" Razz asked, his tone briefly gentling.

Slim nodded, momentarily sobering up himself. "Pineapple, m'lord."

Razz nodded as well, then his expression turned serious once more. He ran the crop delicately along Slim's femur, causing the tall skeleton to shudder. Then the crop came down on his pelvic girdle, causing Slim to arch his back and let out a rugged moan. The pain was exquisite, turning his bones a soft shade of orange. But even better was Razz's face--he was intently focused on his task, a bit aggressive, but underneath being careful. Slim could take a lot, but he did only have one HP. He soothed the spot that was struck after each blow.

This continued for some time, until Slim was slack-jawed and panting, eyelights hazy and threatening to go out. He wanted more, but knew that if he asked for it (without permission, of course), Razz would do anything but adhere to his pleas.

"Beg for me, mutt."

He didn't need to ask twice. "P-please, m'lord. Please let me have you."

Razz tossed the crop aside and pressed his index phalange to Slim's coccyx, and the taller skeleton took that as his cue to summon himself. His length was already throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. Upon closer inspection, Slim would notice that Razz had summoned himself as well, dripping and eager to take him. He could hardly wait himself.

Razz rose up on his patellas, positioning himself over Slim's length so that the head was pressing just barely into his entrance before slowly beginning to sink down. Sim's mouth opened, air rushing out; no matter how many times they did this, it always felt spectacular. He remained incredibly tense until Razz was completely hilted inside of him, just barely resisting the urge to immediately begin bucking up into the other. Razz would just put a cock ring or something similarly cruel on him if he even attempted it.

They may belong to each other equally, but Razz knew just how to make him the submissive bitch, even as he topped from the bottom.

Razz begun moving then, pulling off of Slim until he nearly slipped out of him before swiftly dropping back onto him, causing the tall skeleton to hiss and buck up. A hard hand collided with his side, causing him to keen once again. "Stay still, slut," he was told, and so he did so. He stayed perfectly still as Razz rode him, for minutes and minutes, their breathing gradually picking up more and more. Slim could tell when his brother was growing close to his finish.

But just before they could reach their climax, Razz stopped, pulling off of Slim. This caused him to growl in protest, tugging on his restraints. Razz 'tsk'ed his tongue in disapproval.

"You know better than to try and cum without my permission, mutt. Do you really deserve to cum inside of me if you're going to be so greedy?" Razz asked, and Slim nodded eagerly, just wanting to reach completion already. It was almost painful, with how close he had been.

"Y-yes, please m'lord. I know I do not deserve to cum, especially not within the same space as you, but I need it." He said, squirming in the bed, and Razz chuckled before climbing back onto him and hilting once again, beginning to ride him at a rapid pace. Slim's fingers curled into tight fists in the sheets as he resisted the urge to buck up and into the other, allowing him to peacefully ride him until the two of them reached their climaxes, Slim almost explosively releasing into his brother with his mouth wide open as he moaned.

And just like that it was over, Razz pulling off of Slim before undoing his restraints and falling to his side on the bed. Slim shook out his wrists for a moment before curling around the other, tugging the sheets over the two of them.

"Happy Halloween, m'lord."

"Oh shut up, Papyrus. ...I love you."

"I love you too, Sans. Thank you."


	5. Beat the Heat (Fellswap Sans/Undertale Sans)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: Dry Humping, Grinding, Frottage, Praise, Multiple Orgasms  
> Classic is no stranger when it comes to sex. In fact, he's been with his fair share of Monsters over the years and years of RESETs. But it was never committed, and never meant anything more than taking the edge off. But now he's in Fellswap, and on the Surface. Though the world is dark and has many issues, the kid is peaceful, and they don't expect any loops anytime soon. He doesn't have to worry about them anymore.
> 
> But then his heat happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this is FELLSWAP, so it is Underfell swapped, not Underswap felled. If you have any confusion in regards to this, look at this image for a distinction:
> 
> http://pm1.narvii.com/6441/9e4ee45275fb8f540a86b0b5b9114b45a08664df_hq.jpg
> 
> Also! Requests are getting a bit more difficult for me now that I've gotten the main AUs out of the way (I haven't done Swapfell yet, but I'm still getting to know the AU beyond the basics; I've known about it for quite some time, but never really looked into it). So I'll be accepting requests in the comments. Give me a pairing and a basic idea of what you want to happen as well as kinks. If I feel like it's reasonable enough and it interests me, you might just see it written up in a day or two!
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: Error, Ink, and Fresh are special characters. Error has Haphephobia, Fresh is a parasite only capable of fear and apathy, and Ink doesn't have a SOUL. For these reasons, I will not accept pairings with them (even if they're cute!) without a logical reason pairing them together with another Monster, either among themselves or other AUs.
> 
> Please also note that I may not write your AU if I haven't heard of it. For example, if it's an obscure personal AU. If I don't end up writing your suggestion, please don't take it personally! It either just didn't interest me enough to write 1,000+ words on it, or I didn't know the character's personalities intimately enough to be able to write them to the best of my ability. I will try to respond with my reason why, though, rather than leave you in the dark!
> 
> With all of that being said, and without further ado, let's get on to the fifth installment of Kinktober: 2017!

Sans knew from the moment he woke up that something was wrong.

It felt much too hot. He kicked off his covers and stripped down to his boxers, but the heat did not lessen. He would have checked for a fever, has he not noticed the heat gathered between his legs.  
  
His magic was agitated, and just like that he knew. He had never experienced it before, because he'd never felt safe enough to allow himself to be so weak. But he had read about it in books, and, well...observed other sources.

He was in heat.

He almost laughed. What instead came out was a frustrated, and somewhat breathy moan as he sat up. Well, he couldn't just lock himself away for several days. Slim and Razz would have a conniption fit if he did. And so he walked out of the room and towards the bathroom. He needed to take a shower.

He turned the dial, water coming down in a thick spray and running down the wall in rivulets. A setting not too rough and concentrated, but just strong enough to gently massage his bones. It was ice cold; just what he would need right now. Sans stripped out of his boxers, stepping underneath the spray and immediately shifting at the shocking chill. He had been expecting it, but it seemed colder than usual. The reason why was obvious: he _himself_ was burning up, hotter than normal.

He didn't step out until he was shivering, but almost immediately he was sweating again. He had used soap to mask his scent, but he knew he would still need to be careful. He was in a sub heat, and in a world like this, would be a magnet for dominant Monsters.

Sans sighed, swaddling himself in a towel before heading back to his room to get dressed again. He wore something a bit heavier than usual, despite his overwhelming heat. He would hate himself now, but be thankful later, he was sure. He wanted to mask his scent as well as give himself more time to escape if a Monster tried to take advantage of him. A slate gray sweater with his usual blue jacket and thick jeans ought to do it, he thought. If not that, then what would, right?

He'd rather not think of the alternative.

Now all he would have to do is be careful while hiding it from Razz and Slim, without bringing attention to himself. The Swapfell brothers were openly sexual Monsters, and he didn't want to make things tense or awkward for them.

Sigh. This was going to be a long few days.

Sans then went back downstairs, cooking himself some breakfast. If he didn't leave evidence of having made something for himself, Razz pitched a fit and gave Sans a lecture on the importance of eating regularly. He would do the same to Slim; Sans knew this because he often heard their bickering, no matter where he himself was in the house.

He had gotten started on making a sandwich when arms snaked around his waist from behind, dragging him a pace backward and causing him to stumble.

Deep inhale.

Exhale.

He flinched.

"You smell nice."

Sans went completely blue in the face, looking over his shoulder and finding Razz there. The skeleton had stuffed his head into Sans' shoulder, and was rather obviously taking in his scent. Without his heeled boots on he would have to stand on his tip-toes to reach where he was. Sometimes it jarred Sans just how short his alternate was in comparison to him. Meanwhile, it just infuriated the royal guard captain.

He needed to try and cover this up before things escalated.

"Uhh...yeah. I bought a different kind of shampoo this time around." Sans attempted weakly, his voice cracking in the middle. Very convincing. He even begun sweating, if his voice wasn't enough of a giveaway. Razz was just _so **close**._

Razz snorted, releasing him. He appeared completely unconvinced, even throwing Sans a 'really?' look.

"I know what heat smells like, Sans."

The slightly taller skeleton's bones went cold, then turned paler than they were, somehow. With Razz's help lately, they had seemed much more pearly than ashen.

A moment passed. They stared each other down. Razz was the first to break.

"Myah-hah-hah! You should see the look on your face!" Razz cackled. "You don't need to be embarrassed, you fucking dingbat. It's flattering, and means I've been doing my job correctly." What? "You feel safe enough to let your guard down, and maybe even allow a potential mate take care of you." Razz grinned, rather wolfishly, at Sans. He even waggled his brow-bones, something Sans had never actually seen him do before. That seemed more like something Slim would do, while smirking smugly. But seeing how Slim was the younger brother, Sans supposed he had to have gotten it from somewhere.

That aside, what Razz had said was true--Razz had been just as much a mother hen to Sans as he was a harsh master to a willing Slim. Chastising and stern, but bottom-line did nothing but care for Sans and almost baby him. Making sure he ate, got exercise, and take his prescribed medicine. They also used to go to therapy once a week (something he hadn't liked at first), but now just went once a month. He had hardly even noticed the change, it had been so gradual.

"But I don't want a mate," Sans told Razz, mentally backpedaling when this caused his alternate to frown.

"You don't?" Razz actually seemed uncertain at this, causing Sans' SOUL to jump in anxiety. Why did he feel guilty? He didn't have feelings for his alternate, right? That...that would be weird, right?

But then again, Razz was screwing Slim...like, regularly...so.

"W-well, I don't know." Sans didn't know if that was wise to say or not. Razz looked hopeful again, but was that really a good thing? Sans had no idea.

"Well then, would you be willing to give it a shot?" Razz asked, and Sans took a moment to give it a thought.

His heat was burning worse than all other times today. Razz was very obviously a dominant Monster, and he _was_ asking, rather than just taking. He had always done nothing but ensure Sans was at least content, hovering and always being in close physical contact. Sans hadn't noticed it before, but...had Razz been courting him all this time?

Sans is no stranger when it comes to sex. In fact, he's been with his fair share of Monsters over the years of RESETs. But it was never committed, and never meant anything more than taking the edge off. Was it just because he was in heat, or was Razz genuinely interested? For some reason, it didn't feel like it had with other Monsters. He felt like if he ended up doing something with Razz and it meant nothing, he wouldn't be able to come back from it.

Razz seemed to catch onto Sans' unease, reaching forward and pressing his hands on either of Sans' shoulders.

"Sans? What's wrong?"

"Will it be committed?" Sans asked, without really thinking. He hadn't even tried to play it off. But his bones were burning, and sweat was rolling down his skull in bullets. He could rival Red at this point with how profusely he was sweating right now. It was actually kind of gross, even though his magic didn't smell much like anything.

"Would it be c--of course it would be committed!" Razz looked like he was about to cuff Sans over the head, but stayed his hand at the last moment. Sans wasn't Slim. He couldn't emotionally stand something so blunt and harsh. Not without a bit of build-up over multiple sessions, at least. "What, you thought I would just take advantage of your heat and then think nothing of it? Honestly ever since you moved in Slim has moaned so loud and pretty for you, hoping you might peek your head in. But it just drives you away! If you hear us going at it, all you have to do is ask and you can join us."

Sans was completely blown away by this information. Of course he had always left the house or found something to distract himself if he heard the two of them (which was pretty much every time they did it), just out of modesty and not wanting to eavesdrop at all. How was he supposed to interpret _that_ as an invitation?

"Look. Sans." Razz sighed, crossing his arms. His cheeks puffed up a bit. "If you don't want to go that route, that's okay. Slim and I can start quieting down. I'm sorry if we made things awkward for you. As you know, things are a bit different in our Universe in comparison to yours. But if you want us to stop, just say the word, and--"

Sans was feeling very impulsive today, it would seem. He had cut the shorter skeleton off mid-sentence as he lurched forward, throwing his arms around Razz's neck and nearly (accidentally) bowling the other over as he knocked their teeth together. He hadn't known how else to respond. But despite how uncomfortable it had been, Razz didn't waste a single moment to reciprocate, placing his hands on Sans' waist and dragging their torsos together, deepening the kiss.

It escalated quickly from there. Razz's tongue snaked into Sans' awaiting mouth, and from there it was a bit of pushing and he sunk down onto the couch, Razz straddling his lap. He keened as the shorter skeleton forced apart his femurs, then beginning to grind his clothed length into Sans' also clothed entrance. And yet, somehow, it felt absolutely _incredible._

Sans eventually found the self-control to reach up and push Razz off of him, sitting up as well. The dominant skeleton's eyelights were dilated but full of confused worry, and Sans let out a soft murr to calm him. "I'm just..." He trailed off, deciding instead to demonstrate by taking off his clothes. Razz's eyes lit up in recognition before he too begun removing his clothes, and within a moment's notice the two of them were bare-boned.

"You are beautiful," Razz whispered in a reverent tone that made Sans' SOUL stutter in his chest. He traced the diagonal scar on Sans' sternum, emblazoned there after many repeated genocidal timelines. Sans himself swept his gaze, albeit more modestly and casually, over Razz's physique. He had many more scars overall, but they were all shallower. Razz gently begun pushing him back down so that he was on his back.

Razz asked Sans if he needed prep, but the latter skeleton just shook his head. Razz nodded, mute, and intent on his goal. Razz pressed his length to Sans' entrance, and the bottoming skeleton inhaled sharply before he was breached, arching up and moaning. His heat exploded, intensifying tenfold and he couldn't help but shriek. This was _nothing_ like using his hand.

"Jeez...I haven't even started yet, and you're already moaning so prettily for me," Razz grunted, voice coming out strained as he arched his hips into Sans, setting a moderate pace. Sans, unlike all times before, was anything but silent. He was squirming, mewling and pleading for more. And what could Razz do but oblige him and his request? He picked up his pace so that he was hammering into Sans, the slightly taller skeleton getting closer with each slap of 'skin' against 'skin'.

"Razz, I...I can't--" Sans threw his hands over his face in embarrassment as he came, Razz grunting and tearing them away, staring intently through narrowed eyes at Sans' expression as he pumped into him a few more times before cumming as well, releasing deep inside of Sans.

A few moments passed, the two Monsters panting before Sans was eventually whining, grinding up and seeking friction again.

"Razz, please...more."

A hand was placed on Razz's shoulder, and he jumped before looking over his shoulder, seeing Slim there, easygoing expression on his face aside from the slight smirk.

"Mind if I join you two?"


	6. Emperor's New Groove (Undertale Papyrus/Underfell Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is dead, but Papyrus is not. Neither is his alternate. At first Edge's callous personality had scared him, but now he was used to it. But what he wasn't used to was ruling an entire, broken kingdom. Fortunately Edge is there to help him out, though, both in politics and de-stressing.  
> Kinks: None, actually. Huh. Unless you count using a scarf as a make-shift gag?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I almost actually went to bed even though I had part of today's chapter typed up. It's 11:30 and I've been working on my cosplay all night. I almost completely forgot about the update. Fortunately Sora_Tayuya commented (love your comments dear!), and I lay there for a moment before remembering, crap! I didn't post today's chapter!
> 
> So it's a bit later than usual, and it'll probably be after midnight by the time you guys actually see this, but I haven't forgotten about this. :')

Papyrus sighed as he readjusted the crown atop his head for the umpteenth time. It wasn't uncomfortable--in fact, it was made out of some of the finest materials--but it just felt wrong. Like it didn't belong on his head. But it probably never would.

Sans was dead. He had jumped in the way of the Human just in the nick of time, as they had attempted to take advantage of Papyrus in his weakest moment. They had afterwards evaded him at every turn up until the very end, meeting him in the Last Corridor. The Judgement Hall...such a beautiful place, but tainted with foul memories that Papyrus despised reliving, but often could not avoid with it being a part of the castle. He recalled that he hadn't been strong enough to beat them on his own. It felt like he had, maybe once or twice, but that was impossible, right? They had fought for seemingly forever, though Papyrus knew it wasn't in his favor. The child somehow almost always knew what he was going to do next. No matter how erratic he became. He had begun thinking it might just be the end for him, and Papyrus might be able to join Sans in...wherever Monsters went after they died.

Then Edge appeared.

He was very obviously war-hardened, fighting with a grace and finesse Papyrus digressed even Undyne would have trouble matching. But then again, maybe that was because she was more a 'charge in head-first' sort of gal than the type to take her time and look good doing it. When she had been alive, at least.

Not important. Not anymore.

Papyrus had watched, incapacitated on the golden tiled floor of the Hall, as Edge pushed back the child and eventually defeated them. It felt like an eternity had passed before he had, but it was finally over. The Human lay on the ground, dead. Sans and all of the other Monsters that had fallen to the Human's blade had been avenged.

Now what?

Well, it had turned out that with no other Boss Monsters alive, Papyrus was the most suitable candidate for leadership, emerging from the ruins of their race. He had been excited at first--he would finally be known by everyone, and he would be able to help them all feel better. Or so he thought.

It turned out it wasn't that simple. His coronation was a week after the murderous child's burial. Many felt they hadn't deserved such a civil farewell, but Papyrus had insisted on it. Edge had also turned his nose up to the act of peace, but surprisingly stuck around. He even taught him some of the etiquette that he knew.

Papyrus reluctantly turned away another Monster before closing visits for the day. He wanted to help everyone, but the truth was he _couldn't_. He had learned that early on.

Hands pressed down on his shoulders, and Papyrus briefly tensed before relaxing. Nobody else in the Underground had such bony hands, save for himself. Not anymore.

"You're tense," came a gravelly (and, amusingly, somewhat nasally) voice. Papyrus sighed, shoulders slumping.

"I want to help them," he whined for what had to be the hundredth time. Edge scoffed.

"I know you do. But we've been through this already. You must accept that even as king now, you're just one Monster, and you can only do so much."

Papyrus nearly wept at this. He could feel orange tears beading at the corners of his eye sockets. He had heard the other's exact words countless times before--but with his nature, it was still incredibly hard to accept such a harsh truth. The Underground needed him more tan ever before and he simply couldn't do anything to help them. He felt like a traitor to his own kind. He could hardly cope.

He missed Sans.

"I know what will make you feel better," Edge told him. Papyrus sighed, knowing what the other was implying. It did help, but he really wasn't--

"Not in the mood?" Edge interrupted Papyrus' thoughts with essentially what he had been thinking. "Don't worry, I can help with that. Come on." His grip shifted from Papyrus' shoulder to his wrist, tugging the just slightly shorter (maybe by like half an inch) skeleton to his feet. He took off both of their crowns, setting them on their respective thrones before guiding his moody alternate to the bed chambers. More specifically, their shared bedroom.

Edge positioned Papyrus so that he was comfortable on the bed, sitting on the edge. He then leaned over to begin slowly pulling off the other's garments. Papyrus' spaulders came off with a click from the clasp, and Edge eased that off before moving on to the breast plate and tunic underneath. He took them all off slowly, but Papyrus would sigh contentedly and relax just a bit more with each removed article of clothing. It was nice not being almost constantly weighed down by all of his clothes, on top of the emotional weight.

"I wish I had told my brother just how proud of him I really was," Edge suddenly confessed into the silence of the room, kneeling down and pulling off Papyrus' pants and boots. The skeleton in question was instantly at rapt attention--it was very rare to hear Edge speak anything of his brother. From what little he had heard, Edge and Red's relationship had been rocky at best.

"I wish he could have come here with me. I was only harsh because I wanted to protect him. I wish he could see me now--knowing that caring doesn't mean weakness and instant death." He sounded on the brink of tears.

Papyrus was about to say something in response, maybe something comforting, but there was suddenly something slick and hot wrapped around his coccyx, causing him to buck forward in shock, moaning as his hands rocketed forward to wrap around Edge's skull. He dragged the kneeling skeleton closer to himself as he whimpered.

It was now silent aside from Papyrus' occasional moans, becoming louder and louder as time passed. Eventually Edge backed off, removing his beloved scarf from around his neck (it was a darker shade and more worn than Papyrus' own), wrapping it around his mandible and thus gagging his mouth. As beautiful as Papyrus' moans were, they would alert someone if he got much louder.

"Shh. Be silent, my love. You wouldn't want the guards to hear and worry, would you?" Papyrus shook his head, tears of pleasure in his eyes, before they shut again as Edge resumed his rather devious ministrations.

Despite how it may seem, Edge was being very gentle and slow with Papyrus. And when he came, SOUL exploding in a flash of bright light, it was one of the most powerful orgasms he had ever had. Edge was typically rough and fast, trying to essentially fuck the concern and anxiety out of Papyrus by making it so he couldn't even think straight.

But this time it was with care and deliberate affection, yet Papyrus still found himself scatterbrained. Edge at the moment was his entire world as he resumed lapping at Papyrus' pelvis, entrance forming a few moments later. It was practically dripping with arousal, and Edge hummed with interest.

"Would you like me to make love to you?" He asked, crawling onto the bed over Papyrus, and the shorter skeleton only nodded. His eyes read _yes, please,_ and he submitted easily beneath his wonderful queen.

He missed Sans, but this was his life now. It wasn't ideal, but Edge made it bearable.


	7. Fog Machine (Underswap Papyrus/Undertale Sans)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when nothing is going on, Sans and Stretch are really stress-prone Monsters. Stretch learns that Sans had never done anything beyond alcohol, and shows him a whole new medium.  
> Kinks: Mutual masturbation, voyeurism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I'm really tired
> 
> I've been in the car all day
> 
> I was driving back to my friend's house after visiting another friend and I drank an entire Mountain Dew and I really needed to use the restroom...like I've never been so close to pissing myself before
> 
> The lady at the gas station gave me a look like a wild animal had come into the store when I ran in and asked her "where is the restroom"
> 
> And then later while I was in the shower I was like "omg she probably thought I was Spongegar or smth fml"
> 
> Anyways yeah that's been my day hahahaha
> 
> How's yours been?

Sans was sprawled out on the couch in the Swap brothers' living room, remote hanging semi-limply in his hand, which was slung over the edge of the sofa and just brushing against the floor. There was a vacant look on his face as he occasionally flipped channels, when the content on the screen either bored him or he encountered Napstaton. Just like back in his Universe, there was a famous robot--and the one in this Universe was almost as annoying. His only redeeming quality was that he made half decent music.

He had been feeling pretty down these past couple of days, and he knew that the brothers of this Universe had noticed. But none of the usual stuff re-ignited the fire that had fueled his mood lately. Since he found someone he could both relate with and confide in, everything had been a bit more bearable. But sometimes he would go through spontaneous dips in mood, and it could be difficult to get him out of those ruts.

He knew that Blue had noticed when he stopped going on walks with him each morning. He knew that Papyrus had noticed when the liquor in the high cabinet started depleting again, and the stool got left in the middle of the floor.

He tried to pick his mood back up. He really did. But the thought of 'what's the point' was just a bit stronger, and so here he lay. And here he had been laying for the past four hours.

The door to his side opened. He didn't even glance over to see who it was as he again tapped the channel button, changing it. The light of the screen reflected off of his face in the darkness. His eyes continued staring vacantly--uncomprehendingly--at the content being presented to him. He was pretty sure this was the third time he had scrolled through their limited selection of channels. There was only so much television content after all, especially when most areas were covered by the same pretentious robot.

The door closed, and there was the sound of shoes being kicked off before sock-covered footsteps approached him. A large hand covered his own before turning off the television. He finally blinked, as if coming back from a deep trance, and focused his eyelights on a hideously bright orange hoodie. The smell of smoke so heavily permeated it that he could even smell it from where he lay. It was a bit sobering.

"How are you doing?" Stretch's gravelly, relaxed voice spoke. Sans was always aware of the differences between Stretch's voice and his own brother's--there were very subtle hints of the odd accent his own brother had, but it was mostly drowned out by the lazy drawl that Stretch had, similar to Sans' own voice. But even despite the obvious differences, there were some similarities that definitely stood out. Like the concern in Stretch's voice, and how it affected his tone; he became quieter. Gentler. It was kind of nice, but also made Sans' SOUL thump sadly.

"Honestly?" Stretch nodded. "I feel like shit. But I'm dealing."

"Not in a good way," Stretch replied, resting his hand gently on Sans' shoulder. It almost entirely engulfed it. Sans instinctively relaxed. "I have a slightly better way, if you'd like to give it a shot. Just come up to my room, yeah?"

Sans eyed Stretch curiously, but nodded, slowly sitting up. His bones creaked, and he stretched (hah), vertebrae and shoulders popping as he hummed. Stretch cringed but said nothing as he started for the stairs, looking over his shoulder occasionally to ensure that Sans was following.

He was.

The door closed behind the two of them, Stretch walking over to his nightstand and rummaging through it. Sans had honestly half expected Stretch to pull out a bong or something, but was surprised to see him pull out something else entirely. It was a mod. He made a confused noise.

"How is vaping supposed to be a more healthy coping method?" He asked. "It's still bad for your SOUL."

"Only if you put nicotine in it," Stretch replied, filling the mod with flavoring. "Even without the bad stuff in it, it's pretty relaxing. Here, give it a shot." Stretch took a puff of the smoke before exhaling, a cloud of white vapor coming out from his mouth, nose, and eyes. It was kind of spooky, but oddly mesmerizing at the same time. He held his hand out, rather hesitantly, for the bottle. Stretch handed it to him, and he weighed it in his hand, shaking it. Stretch snorted at him.

He then put it to his mouth, inhaling, but nothing happened. Stretch snorted and showed him to press the button on the side. "Just don't press it without inhaling, or you'll fry the coil." Sans nodded, putting it to his mouth again and inhaling.

He didn't know how hard he needed to breathe to make it work, so he ended up inhaling hard enough to make his bones rattle slightly. He immediately regretted it as he coughed out a puff of smoke. Stretch fucking _lost it._ He was cackling uncontrollably, wheezing and struggling to breathe. He sounded like a wicked fucking witch, and Sans couldn't help but laugh along between his violent coughing.

"I _cough_ fucking _can't--_ " Sans snickered, "holy fuck, _cough_ I wasn't expecting that--" They were both cackling like madmen as the vapor swirled around them, gradually fading from view. Once the two of them had stopped laughing (and coughing, in Sans' case), they settled down with a sigh. Both of them were relaxed now, despite the recent excitement.

"I know something else that's relaxing," Stretch commented after a few moments of the two skeletons leaning up against each other. Sans hummed, looking over at the other. Stretch gave him a seductive grin, and realization dawned.

"What exactly would happen?" Sans asked, kicking off his slippers and socks. Stretch shifted in his seat.

"I dunno. We could just masturbate. I don't really feel like fucking right now." Stretch shrugged. "It just sucks seeing you so...I dunno, down. I wanna make it better."

Sans nodded, beginning to strip without really thinking about it. He was in a relaxed atmosphere with a Monster he could trust. It may seem a bit absurd, but...meh. It wasn't the first time they had done this. Sans pulled himself out of his shorts, Stretch soon following suit. The two of them watched each other as they begun stroking their lengths, the only sound between the two of them their escalated, hushed breathing.

"How are you feeling?" Stretch asked as he begun pumping himself faster, Sans following suit, matching his pace.

"B-better," he said. "Though...it was a bit hard to get into it at first...since uh, everything kinda sucks. But this is helping." Stretch smiled at this, nodding as they continued their ministrations.

The two of them came nearly at the same time, with Sans releasing a little bit before. The two of them then fell into the covers, unsummoning themselves and becoming a tangled up pile of bones. The cuddling part was probably the most therapeutic stage, and the part Sans liked best.

It didn't take him long to drift off, and Stretch chuckled sleepily before following suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually know nothing about vaping
> 
> My friend vapes and I asked her questions about it while I wrote
> 
> I vaped for the first time for this chapter guys
> 
> Also this chapter is really lame and anti-climatic because it was like almost 3 when I was writing and I had no interest in writing sexual things h a ha


	8. Beat the Heat pt. 2 (Fellswap Sans & Papyrus/Undertale Sans)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Razz made it sound like he did all of the work in the house, especially when it came to making sure Sans was okay. But that was because Slim was a lot more subtle about it. He was the crying shoulder; he was the one that Sans came to when the healthier coping methods weren't working. Sometimes, it took a combination of the both of them to help him through his particularly deep ruts. But even when it didn't seem like it, he was there, helping and being supportive from the sidelines.  
> Kinks: Lots of pampering. I don't know. Why can I only write vanilla lately? I'm literally such a kinky person.  
> Warnings: Overwhelming cuteness. Beware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ViviCatLover low-key requested a part two, and I told them to make a formal request with listed kinks if they wanted it, but then I was like, "well, that's actually a really good idea." So I ran with it. Hopefully this part two doesn't ruin the "magic" of the first chapter. But honestly? Writing Classic being pampered by alternate versions of himself and his brother are _my_ kink, and it only gets better when it's an edgy version of them doing it.
> 
> Oh yeah, and con was today (technically yesterday since it's after midnight??) and it really was worth all of the stress I went through during the week. I had such a great time and I'm glad I did it. :')

Sans hadn't gone to work today.

It wouldn't be the first time he had stayed home, but two particular skeletons tended to fret over him constantly regardless of what it was he actually stayed home for. They were always so gentle with him (unless he asked for something different, of course), and though he often felt like he didn't deserve it, he was too selfish to put a stop to it and often just...let himself experience it. And he never regretted it, and the Fellswap brothers never seemed to be bothered or overburdened by him.

So he allowed himself to indulge.

Sometimes little things like this happened. The scent of lavender seeped into his room, and he'd heard the bath running a few minutes before. But even though he knew at this point what it was, he never grew tired of experiencing it. They never made it anything short of luxurious. Sometimes he worried how much money Slim and Razz actually spent on these spa days. But no matter how much he asked, they would never tell him.

His door opened a few more minutes later, and he rolled over to see Slim in the doorway, lingering there for a moment before walking over and wordlessly scooping Sans up. No words were exchanged between the two of them; nothing needed to be said. He allowed himself to be stripped once Slim set him onto his feet, not even blushing as he was bare-bones, Slim then stripping immediately after. Wordlessly he slipped into the water, Slim following suit. Together the two of them settled down into the off-colored water. Flower petals floated in the water, and lavender was resting on the lips of the tub. The water's off color indicated that a bath bomb had been used. The lights were dimmed (a special feature they had installed in the bathroom some time ago just for moments like this), and candles were lit in various seemingly random but in fact strategic locations.

Some might find the scent overwhelming, but it was all lavender (and maybe a bit of rosepetal), and Sans found it incredibly relaxing. He sank back into Slim's chest, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. He still felt sad, but at least now he was relaxed, and he felt all of his worries melting away, being replaced by contentment. They just sat there in silent for quite a while before the bathroom door creaked open. He didn't need to look to know who it was.

Razz had stepped in. He gave no indication as to whether or not he had been waiting for a cue, or was in fact completely unaware and was just settling into the motions. Regardless he shed of his clothes as well, sitting down on the bath mat and a neatly folded towel (to spare his knees), then leaned over and begun cleaning off Sans' bones with a washcloth. They were a bit ashen and grimy from Sans failing to wash himself. Razz would likely comment on it later, but now was not the time. Instead he continued to dutifully wash off the middle skeleton, intently focused on his objective and both cleaning Sans and making him feel good.

It was all fine until Razz got down to Sans' pelvis. It always went the same way. Sans' bones were all very sensitive in the first place, but his pelvis was a particularly erogenous zone. Razz's mouth didn't even twitch upwards as Sans let out a low moan, tilting his head back and pressing it against Slim's sternum. He panted, the water occasionally sloshing as he would twitch or move his legs around. Razz's pace did not slow nor quicken; he was being thorough, and as clinical as possible.

Until he heard five words. A plea, so quiet that it could almost be written off as the imagination.

Sans' words hovered in the air for awhile, yet he didn't speak again. Nobody responded to him. But there was no dejection. Razz continued at his measured pace, cleaning off Sans' legs and feet, making sure to even get between the bones before anything happened. Slim hadn't done more than sit there and hold Sans the entire time, but he was cleaner anyways. Razz wordlessly pulled the plug on the bathtub, putting out the candles as Slim stood up, scooping Sans into his arms and swaddling him like a newborn baby in the fluffiest towel they owned before walking, all three of them bare-boned, into the nearest bedroom. Which happened to be Razz's.

Sans was lowered into the bed, and the Fellswap brothers took either side of him. The towel fell underneath him, out of the way. But a moment later a large hand smoothed down his sternum while another, much smaller one prodded at his spine and gently traced the arch of his Iliac Crests. He was receptive, eagerly leaning into the combined ministrations.

They worked at his bones for awhile, and Slim gently smoothed his thumb over Sans' clit, never quite penetrating him. Razz's prodding fingers turned into a firm but gentle grip around Sans' spine, pumping it. His free hand would knead his ribs between an index and forefinger. And together, the brothers drove Sans to completion.

Sans sunk completely into the soft, velvety covers of the bed. Neither Fellswap brother played with themselves or another, simply settling down next to Sans and pulling the warm covers over their forms. Sans made sure to divide his attention between the both of them, even though he was in the middle, purring and SOUL glowing faintly in his chest. Razz and Slim own SOULs did the same, showing just how much the three Monsters resonated with each other. They were a loose cage of bony limbs, protective but not possessive over Sans and his safety.

And he knew that so long as he stayed with them, he could find relative happiness and security. Between the two skeletons he'd come to care for so very much, he felt like he could take on anything.

He whispered his affection for them into the darkness, and they responded by nuzzling closer before they each dozed off, completely content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cookies to the user that points out the one thing different about my style in this chapter.


	9. Night at the Roxbury (Undertale Sans/Underfell Sans)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody really knows just how many jobs Sans has. Hell, it's rumored that even _he_ doesn't know. There is one job that nobody knows he has except himself--and his clients. One day his roommate follows him to work, and even goes so far as to request him...there's nowhere to run, but Red _had_ requested him, right?  
>  Kinks: Nothing really in particular, but does contain lap dancing, pole dancing, and blowjobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling a bit more aware this evening, but I'm also in excruciating pain. While I was at FanNexus yesterday I sparred for thirty minutes straight, and I'm really feeling it today. My mobility is really limited and it's difficult to walk. Hopefully it'll pass soon.
> 
> Also, kudos to anyone that finds the extremely subtle reference in this chapter.
> 
> But again, my personal life doesn't matter...you're here for the porn. So let's hop right into it, yeah?

Red didn't really know where his roommate would go at night. Presumably to a job, and with how consistent it was he knew that much was true, but Sans always dodged answering when asked what exactly it was he did. Probably because he knew Red could always track down the facility and ask if he actually worked there or not. But now he was beginning to worry.

What if Sans was involved in the mafia or some shit?

And so one night, when Sans went out, Red followed him.

They didn't exactly live in the best part of town. Even with their combined wages, and each of them having several jobs, it was hard to make it by when you're a Monster on the Surface. So he honestly didn't know why he was surprised when his tracking led him to a strip club, Sans stepping inside. He didn't have the money to go hiring prostitutes, and he always had Red himself to dick around with.

When he went inside, he already felt a bit overwhelmed. There was a lot of activity going on, and Sans was nowhere to be seen. He ended up tracing the walls in an attempt to avoid the throngs of people. He hated large crowds; there was too much to pay attention to at once, and when you're paranoid about people attacking you, it gets to be pretty stressful. It got worse when the lights suddenly came out, spotlights focusing on a stage on the other side of the bar.

Red could hardly believe his eyes.

Standing there on the stage in the most provocative clothing he'd ever seen, was Sans.

It was silent for a moment before music started, and Red couldn't look away as his alternate moved with it, stepping away from the curtain. Red couldn't believe it was the same Monster that sprawled out on the sofa munching on popato chisps or stuffing his face with ice cream straight out of the tub. He was like a professional dancer, and Red couldn't believe that such talent was being wasted in such a sleazy bar.

His hips snapped from side to side as he sashayed over to the pole in the middle of the stage, grabbing it with one hand and swinging almost experimentally before the dance somehow got better, pole now involved. He was ninety-percent sure the fucker was using gravity magic to pull a few daring tricks.

He couldn't believe that all of these random fucking strangers got to see this on a regular basis, and he never got any of it.

He walked over to the barkeep, making a request to see the dancing skeleton in private. Apparently his alias was 'Rattlebones', as in 'rattle your bones'. Cheesy motherfucker. But the song eventually ended and, coated in a thin sheen of light blue sweat, Sans vanished into the back room. Red followed, silent as a shadow.

The door opened and closed. A bone was pointed at his face in a second, which told Red that some creeps had peeped on him in the past, likely wanting a little bit more than just the tease. But the bone was immediately lowered once Sans realized who was standing there.

"R-Red? What are you doing here?"

Red relaxed his shoulders, swiping nervously at his sleeves. He may be indignant (and a bit pissed), but he was technically not supposed to know about this. And judging from the intense blush on Sans' face, he was just as surprised as Red had been. Still, he schooled his expression into something more relaxed, trying to play it off like the badass motherfucker he totally was.

"I followed ya, sweetcheeks," he drawled, taking a few steps forward. Sans stepped back, blush deepening. Red followed. He was soon pressed up against the wall. "And I paid to see ya here backstage to commend ya dancin'. Didn't know ya had it in ya." Sans' expression briefly turned to a scowl at this.

"I told the barkeep not to fuckin' accept company without askin' me first. I'll have to get your money back for you. But still, I know this place is really busy, maybe you should just go home--"

Red stopped the other by pinning him to the wall, hands on either side of his head. There was a devilish grin on his face, and his eyelight was smoking just slightly. Sans was unsettled, but not afraid. He hadn't been afraid of Red in a long time. The guy was all bark and no bite, and on top of that a fucking goober.

"Awh but why would I do that? I went to the trouble of coming all the way here. I paid to come an' see ya. Maybe you'd like to..." Red's face moved in just a bit closer to Sans' own, "...I dunno, give me a private show? One that you've never shown those fuckwads out there."

Sans sat there for a moment, considering his options. He was in hot water right now, though he was sure that if he asked Red to back the Hell off, the larger Monster would do so without a second thought. They were actually pretty close pals, being roommates and all, and they did a lot of things together. Including sex, every now and again.

"Alright...you're on." Sans took a half-step closer to Red, and being already pinned, that brought their nasal apertures mere centimeters away. He was trying to be imposing, but since he was several inches he didn't really think it worked well. Red grinned wolfishly, 'humoring' his attempt none-the-less. "What should we do first?"

"Well, ya could give me a slightly more personal dance." Red pulled up a chair with his gravity magic, sitting in it before gesturing to his crotch. "Think you'd feel up to it?"

The next twenty minutes or so consisted of Red sitting there, looking incredibly satisfied with Sans over him giving him such a nice show. But eventually he grew tired of it, just because there was only so much that could be done without physical contact, and he _really_ wanted to touch Sans right about now.

"How's'bout we move on to something more fun?" Red wanted to make the best of this. Sans climbed off his lap, and Red stood up. Wordlessly, the blue skeleton fell to his knees as Red pulled down his shorts, removing himself from his boxers and giving a few swift pumps. "Open wide, sweetheart."

Sans did so, and without hesitation Red shoved himself down his alternate's throat, claws hooking in the ridges of his skull. He then set a somewhat brutal pace, knowing that Sans didn't have a gag reflex, and then allowed himself to become lost in the pleasurable sensations. He hadn't thought for a moment that Sans did stripping for a living, but had known for awhile now that he was _really_ good at giving head. Now he kind of had an idea, though he was curious...was Sans just a stripper, or was he actually a prostitute?

"You do this with just me, or do you get around?" Red grunted and hilted himself again before withdrawing his length so his alternate could speak. Sans could talk without moving his mouth, but it was easier to focus when there wasn't a dick in your mouth.

"No, I really only do this with you. I don't want some filthy Human junk in my mouth, and who knows who has what STD." He shuddered at the mere thought. Red's ensuing laugh came from his stomach, which had been summoned along with his length.

"That's fair. But...it's kinda sweet that yer doin' this all for me." Sans didn't respond, instead electing to take him back into his mouth, and resumed sucking Red off. It didn't take long after that for the borderline bara skeleton to reach climax, releasing down Sans' throat. The fucker even hummed in pleasure, sending vibrations down Red's oversensitive length, causing him to groan before withdrawing, slumping back in his seat and lazily fumbling to make himself decent.

"Well, ya don't gotta hide ya careers from me, dollface. We should definitely do this more often." Red practically purred, sitting back in his seat. Sans huffed in annoyance, boldly climbing into the other's lap and tapping Red's cheekbone.

"Wouldn't mind in the slightest, but I think you're forgetting something, asshole." Sans groused, and Red slowly opened his eyes to look at him for several moments before cackling, nodding in agreement.

"I suppose I have, sweetheart. Well then let's get to it, shall we?"


	10. Sinbad (Underlust Sans/Underfell Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lust is a Siren. Edge is a royal sea captain. One sings men to their deaths, the other wayfinds and dominates. And so it's not very surprising that the two of them meet. What ends up happening, however, is an entirely different story.  
> Kinks: Beastiality (kind of...Edge fucks the fish boi), mating cycles/in heat, impregnation, hypnotism, asphyxiation.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting last night. I just really wasn't feeling it for some reason. I'm gonna do my best to post double the chapters today though, hence the earlier-than-usual upload. :')

The ship creaked and groaned as it occasionally brushed against the craggy cliff walls in the narrow passage. It was in a narrow valley between two incredibly steep and sharp rock faces. The debris of previous sunken wayfinders could be seen poking out of the waves at certain tides, sending an ominous message to any who saw them.

But Captain Edge didn't plan on joining them today.

A lot of previous sea captains probably said that and failed to make it out, but Edge had a good feeling that the odds were in his favor this day. The waters were relatively calm, and the sky was blue. He steered the ship, posture straight and confident. His crew mirrored his high morale, bustling busily this way and that across the deck, all tending to each their own duties. Edge smirked proudly; he had one of the best crews the crown had to offer him, and he beamed with pride at knowing that they were all under his command.

It was smooth sailing right now, but they still had about another half a mile before they successfully cleared the cliff face. He looked up again at the sky, before gasping in shock at what he saw.

Clouds were amassing overhead, but not all across the sky. It only seemed to be directly overhead. The wind picked up drastically, threatening to pitch the ship into the rocky walls that were only mere feet from either side of the ship. He cranked the wheel, posture tensing and all contentment leaving him.

For just a brief moment, he wondered if this was what the previous sea captains had seen before their ships sunk.

He couldn't allow himself to care. It was his responsibility to ensure that his crew and himself all made it out alive.

Edge was shocked when suddenly his ship tipped to the side, a massive wave of water washing over the deck with enough force to knock his crew to their knees. A couple unfortunate bastards were washed over the guardrails, shouting as they were punted overboard before disappearing into the unruly waves. Edge had already had enough of this.

"Lye ahull!" Edge shouted at the top of his non-existent lungs, what remained of his already waterlogged crew stumbling to the mast and scrambling to the rigs, rolling up the sails, trying desperately to lessen the impact of the wind on their direction. But the waves still tossed the ship recklessly about, and Edge stumbled, grip on the steering wheel faltering. He let out a clipped cry as he was knocked in the side of the head by the now rapidly turning wheel's arms, falling to the ground in a daze. The ship rammed with a groan into the rock face, the sound of splintering wood following immediately after.

And a moment after that, there came soft singing.

Everything seemed to fall silent once the singing started. It was multiple voices, all singing in a soft, synchronized acapella. Edge felt his pain lessen and his mind grow foggy in response to the sound--he didn't really know what was happening, but he quickly felt his worries all fading away--which was preposterous! Both he and his crew were in imminent danger! But he couldn't muster the willpower to concern himself with the thought as the singing continued. He wondered if perhaps angels were descending from Heaven to rescue him, even though he wasn't a particularly religious man and had done his fair share of sinning in his lifetime. He had done many a thing he wasn't particularly proud of.

Then something washed aboard from a high wave, saltwater washing over the leather of Edge's garb and causing it to become crusty, likely ruining the expensive material. He stared dazed as a beautiful creature slithered towards him using the shallow water of the deck. There was affection and safety in their eyes as they crooned an enrapturing melody, baritone but not missing a single note. He didn't flinch as a webbed, bony hand closed over his shoulder, and he felt contentment wash over his bones, no doubt some sort of magic, as they then begun dragging him towards the guardrails.

He had heard myths--now, he wanted to be afraid and fight back, but he just couldn't bring himself to. He had no doubt in his mind now that this was a siren, but he was so incredibly taken by their beautiful voice he couldn't so much as lift a finger in protest. They were seated on the edge of the guardrail before arms wrapped around him and he was falling, falling, falling, and landed with a splash in the water. The last thing he saw was his ship, crawling with sirens, and gradually sinking beneath the waves as water filled the brig.

Edge was dragged beneath the waves, and his world faded to black.

\--

Edge awoke with a shuddering gasp, coughing and quickly rolling over to vomit up water. He didn't _technically_ need to breathe to survive, which was why he was probably still alive, but he knew that he had been the only Monster capable of doing so of his entire crew. More likely than not, they were dead by now, for however long he had been out.

But then he noted--the siren could have just killed him, right? Not that there was much to be eaten, and he would turn to dust immediately upon death anyways, but why was he still alive? At least he felt alive. Could it have been a dream? He pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking around.

He seemed to be in a cove of some sort. There was sunlight creeping into the cavern he was in from some yards away, but with how exhausted and waterlogged he was, he doubted he could make it all the way over there. Especially if the siren--

"Heya."

"Fuck!"

Edge scrambled to get up, though he only ended up slipping and falling back onto his ass. He whipped around to look in the direction the voice had come from, seeing a skeletal creature there. Upon closer inspection, he realized that they were a siren, just by looking at the long, sinfully beautiful violet tail. It swished somewhat lazily from side to side, and he shook his head, not having intended to stare.

"A bit jumpy, aren't you?" The siren hummed, sounding amused. He realized that the other was laying flat on their stomach, propping up their head and upper body on a palm and smirking amused in his direction. His eyes were half-lidded, and Edge found the expression rather infuriating. It reminded him far too much of his own brother's face.

"Well how the fuck do you expect me to react?" Edge snorted, righting himself in an attempt to bring back just a bit of dignity. The other's expression didn't change, infuriating him further. Monsters _always_ cowered when he straightened--the fact that the siren didn't even bat an eye both annoyed and unnerved him. If he didn't look scary, what weapon did he have?

Not that he should expect a siren to be afraid of him anyways. He had sunk his ship after all, and sung him into submission.

"Why didn't you kill me, anyways? I'm sure that your friends were happy to murder the rest of my crew." Edge groused, crossing his arms. He looked a bit like a petulant child, but couldn't really bring himself to care. He'd had everything of merit ripped away from him in one fell swoop. He had the right to be a bit indignant. The siren just snorted, crawling with his (he had determined the siren to be a male based off of his vocal range) arms closer to Edge, whom backed away until he was pressed against a wall.

"Oh, dear. You don't understand, do you?" He chuckled, climbing into Edge's lap. The ex-captain's expression twisted as he felt the other's slimy tail caress his bones. "Skeleton Monsters are a rare find, both on the land and sea. I happen to be in heat, and it's mating season. And so when I saw you, I thought you would make the perfect mate."

Edge was in shock. "Fuck you!" He shouted, hands jumping up to wrap around the other's throat. He was a bit shocked to feel gills there, lodged almost like food between one's teeth between the siren's cervical vertebrae. It was a bit disconcerting, but had the desired effect. The siren gasped, his own hands shooting up to claw at Edge's, trying desperately to dislodge his damaging claws from his delicate membranes. Edge only dug in harder, drawing blood. Lust started crying, the seduction in his eyes turning into fear. And for a moment, Edge actually felt a bit of pity for the fucker.

The siren wanted to have sex, likely so that he could give birth to more damning creatures. He had taken away his reputation, his crew, and his ship. Not to mention his dignity. And yet the fear in the other's eyes--he was just doing what he had to. Edge knew what it was like to be helpless to the clutches of heat, nearly driven mindless by desperation to fuck or _be_ fucked by _something._ Perhaps that's what convinced him to finally release the other, the siren coughing and gasping raggedly in agony as he fell back, choking on his own tears.

Shooting a man was so much easier than choking the life out of their eyes. Edge was cruel to an extent, but not so drastically. He hovered over the other now, worried that it might be too late to save him anyways with how much damage he had dealt. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw a hint of green coming from the other's hand, healing his gills and drying up the blood. Still, the other now eyed him warily, panting heavily. His gills flared uneasily. He seemed to be considering fleeing, but was hesitating out of mere curiosity as to why the land-lubbing skeleton had spared his life.

"I understand what it's like to be stuck in a heat with no partner to take care of it." Edge said, a bit awkwardly now. Goodness, he sounded like an utter fool. This had to be a form of prostitution? Sex while in heat was such an intimate thing, usually reserved for mates, save for delinquents that didn't care who they did it with. "But tell me--why don't you take another siren as a mate? Why take a captain?"

The siren straightened up a bit at this, fins on his tail waving lazily. Edge could see a light sheen on the scales, telling him that a mucous of some sort was trapping moisture, allowing him to linger comfortably on land. A dangerous but effective defense mechanism, he thought. "Sirens can only get pregnant, they can't do the impregnating. It's common for us to raid ships for mates, have our way with them, then drown them. But I know how rare skeletons are, and so I spared your life, hoping for something a bit more consensual. Plus, well...this is my first mating season, and I'd rather it be something a bit more special."

Edge hated the sympathy that welled up in his SOUL at this admittance. The siren could just be playing with his emotions and planning on drowning him afterwards anyways. How did he expect sex with a stranger to be special anyways? It was just a quick lay. It wasn't like either of them were built to live in the same biome. The other's logic baffled him, but he still thought that maybe he could stand to humor the other.

"What is your name? I do not wish to just call you 'siren'." The siren in question snorted at this, rolling his eyes.

"It's Lust. Just call me Lust."

Now it was Edge's turn to snort. Of fucking course. But he held back any sarcastic remarks, wanting to just get this over with. He was becoming increasingly aware of the aroused scent of the other, and didn't want to admit that he was becoming rather 'interested' himself by the tantalizing scent. He pulled himself out of his salt-stiff breeches, stroking a few times before realizing that he had no idea where the other's genitalia was. Lust silently stared for a moment before flustering and coming to this realization himself. He reached down and fumbled with his scales, before tugging at some in a way that looked painful. A moment later his finger dipped into a well-hidden slit. Edge's eyes widened as he questioned himself a second time on whether or not this was a virtuous idea. He was perpetuating the rate in which other sea-bearers would be drowned by assisting in reproduction. But even while aware (at least he thought he was aware; he could be being hypnotized for all he knew), he found this rather erotic, and, well...maybe it would find a way to be beneficial to him. As it was, he hadn't gotten laid in a particularly long time.

Lust, after spreading himself a bit, put both of his hands on Edge's shoulders and shifted him so that he was laying on his back, climbing over him and pressing his entrance against Edge's tip. They both moaned as they felt each other's heat, Lust particularly warm since he was in heat. A moment passed while they looked into each other's eyes before they both shut, gasps echoing in the cove as Lust pushed down, taking all Edge had to offer deep inside of him.

Hardly a moment passed, arousal fueling them both as they started a brutal pace. Edge bucked almost desperately up into Lust, the siren eagerly meeting each thrust and clenching around him, instincts driving him to try and bring Edge to orgasm as swiftly as possible. And it was working. Within moments Edge could feel himself growing close, angling his hips to press roughly into Lust's g-spot before hilting and releasing himself into the other, Lust trilling happily and arching his back as he came as well, tail fin slapping the damp ground in his euphoria. Then, just as quickly as it came, their orgasms ended and they both fell limp, panting. Lust, curiously, still hadn't pulled off of Edge, but the captain made no move to pull out as he felt some of his release trickle out around his length, pooling on the ground.

"Mmm, I'm still so hot," Lust crooned. He whimpered before huffing and resuming thrusting onto Edge's oversensitive length, causing him to gasp, tiredly reciprocating by bucking up. He was exhausted and still in the midst of his post-coital bliss, but that didn't mean that he didn't have the energy to continue.

\--

Edge traced the sea shore, kicking at any gravel and getting sand on his boots. It was nighttime, and he was alone. Since that day, he had retired from his work as a sea captain--or, rather, had been discharged after coming back the only survivor of his ship. But that was okay, because he had other matters to attend to.

The water wavered unnaturally a few feet away. Edge stopped in his tracks, turning to face the disturbed waves and kneeling down. A pearly white skull peeked out from amidst the waves, water rolling out of sockets that followed suit as his lover emerged from the waves, crawling clumsily onto the shore. His stomach was slightly distended, round with pregnancy. Edge was filled with fondness at the sight as he let the other crawl into his lap, much like how he had all that time ago.

"How is it going?" Edge asked, his tone soft, whispered as if he had been telling Lust a secret. The siren giggled, throwing his arms around Edge and purring softly. Reflexively, the land-dwelling skeleton's hand moved down to press affectionately over Lust's stomach.

"I'm due any day now," Lust hummed in response, nuzzling his head up underneath Edge's chin. "They're going to be beautiful, I just know it." He begun kissing at Edge's jawline, causing the ex-captain to growl playfully. "I'll have to disappear for a few days after they're born, or else all of us could become a target. I already am taking a huge risk seeing you while I'm this round..." Big fish were always a problem, even to sirens. Edge hugged Lust a bit more protectively to his chest, expression darkening.

"I understand," he said. "All of your safety must come first. But please, as soon as you know they can be trusted to follow you around and stay safe, let me see them." He dipped his skull to the side, pressing gentle kisses to Lust's gills and cervical vertebrae. They were scarred, but had long since healed.

"Of course," Lust replied, beginning to doze off in Edge's lap. The latter skeleton sighed, picking Lust up before wading out a bit more into the water, not wanting to risk his partner drying up on land. He then looked up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle and the moon cast it's shadows over the ocean as his mate dozed off.

Their relationship was a bit unorthodox, but Edge was happy.


End file.
